


Empty

by AnneCumberbatch



Series: I saw London without you [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Depressed John Watson, Ficlet, Hurt John Watson, Isolation, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, John Watson's Blog, M/M, Pining John Watson, Post-Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Prequel, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23485555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneCumberbatch/pseuds/AnneCumberbatch
Summary: John sat, staring at the chair opposite him. Empty. It will always be empty now.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/ John Watson
Series: I saw London without you [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689616
Comments: 18
Kudos: 21





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silvergirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvergirl/gifts).



> This takes place right before the start of all we do is hide away and was inspired by this post: 
> 
> https://annecumberbatch.tumblr.com/post/611868514879488000/totallysilvergirl-mrtinfreeman-theres-stuff
> 
> And so, this ficlet is gifted to @silvergirl because otherwise, it wouldn't have been written.   
> Also, this has been around for a bit, but I'm finally posting it to A03. So... if you've read it before, it was on my tumblr for a bit.

John sat, staring at the chair opposite him. _Empty. It will always be empty now._ The emptiness was so great John felt it tugging at his soul, pulling it into the expanse of space above the leather seat. _Get out. Have to get out._ He stood, his bare feet cold and smooth against the rug, and stumbled over to the door. His hand reached out and braced himself against the doorframe and he closed his eyes. _It’s just you, now. Just as it’s always been._

John drew in a trembling breath, his brow furrowing. “Friends protect people.” He whispered into the empty space, the last words of any substance he had said to the man he would have given everything for, before that man had flung himself from a rooftop and crushed his skull on the pavement below. He could not call that man a friend, not when he had so entirely failed him. It was clear, once again, that John had never really found the friendship he wanted so desperately, needed so urgently.The friendship he thought he’d had with that man. The man who is now dead. And buried beneath the earth. 

John gasped at the thought of Sherlock, destined to remain still forever, his once brilliant eyes now empty and dull, lying cold and alone in a box buried beneath the ground, and grabbed at his chest, tugging at his shirt to try and calm the enormous pressure swelling up inside him, the enormous call of grief. He choked back a sob before closing his eyes and forcing himself to calm, breathing harshly through his nose in an attempt to regulate himself. He straightened his shoulders and opened his eyes, walking up the stairs to his room and closing the door behind him, creating a barrier between him and the life he had with that man. With the man he had thought was his friend. 

He sat on the bed and pulled his laptop into his lap, opening it to the webpage he had set up the previous day. He opened a page and looked at it, the blinking curser mocking him with its waiting. Waiting for him to make the move, to say something. Say anything. To talk about the man he had failed and who had failed him. _Friends protect people._ He had needed that man, more than he would ever be able to say. And now he was gone. 

_What made you think you ever deserved protecting, John?_

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Questions, and critiques are always welcome.


End file.
